Catching up.

The problem with writing a blog post once every week or more is that the posts I do write seem to be marathon posts. I will try not to make this a marathon post, being mindful that my faithful readers have other, much more interesting things to do with their lives.

In reverse chronological order:

Cat Update:

The cats were at Grandma's house while Doug and I were in Maine. Two cats love it there; one does not. I'll give you one guess for the cat who doesn't love it there. That's right - Sasha! The one who at the moment doesn't love anything but catnip and sucking on Doug's armpit. We retrieved Meg from East Hartford this weekend, completing the feline triumvirate in Dedham, and Sasha, who for a week was getting used to being the only cat in the bedroom at night, now had to deal with her sister again. This threw her into all kinds of disarray. Doug threw her out of the bedroom on Saturday night because she was being nasty to even him, and locked her in the office. In the morning when I went to let her out I discovered that she doesn't like being in jail and told me by letting me discover the wonderful gifts she left me overnight. Yes, she decided to use the office as her litter box. And someone else decided to use the bathroom rug as his/her litter box, too. So Sunday morning was all kinds of wonderful with me threatening Doug to drive one of the cats - I didn't care which one - to the shelter because if there is one thing - the one thing! - that I will not tolerate it is pee and poop outside the litter box. I then fled the disaster zone to go to the gym to blow off steam, only to see this as I was backing out of the driveway:


No one went to the shelter, and Sasha seemed to be making progress by the end of the day (maybe that's because her attempt to run away from her miserable existence, which got her stuck on the roof and caused Doug to do his fireman impression and rescue her via ladder, was a complete failure and left her knowing once and for all that she is the kind of cat who requires food and shelter and clean cotton t-shirts to suck on). We are giving them two weeks. If there are no more accidents outside the box and if I hear less screeching coming from the smallest one, then they can all stay with us.

Maine Update:

There's no update, really, about Maine, other than we miss Maine and those we know who live in that state. It seems like forever ago that we were there, gazing at the Belfast shore



kayaking while the sun was setting over the lake



watching this cutie-pie explore new foods and fall in love with questionable tag-sale cast-aways



and challenging our taste buds with foods like these from the Maine Lobster Festival.



More Moody's trips with Ruby and her two gay dads!



More hiking in the Camden Hills!



And more biking in Acadia.




Please? Don't know if we can wait for another year to pass before we feel that kind of contentment again. Anyone up for a week at the lake for some ice-fishing?